AThe card arrived not entirely unexpected – a touching love note from an old, dear friend with whom I’d recently reconnected at our high school reunion. The envelope bore a tad more weight, I noticed upon retrieving it. Probably an inspirational poem, or maybe a black and white photo from back in the day. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?
After reading my friend’s heart-stirring words, I reached for what she had included – not a back-in-the-day sentimental relic, but a joyous reunion photo of us, and something more – a lined, faded piece of yellow writing paper with the dates: 10/6/75 – 10/7/75. Fifty years ago! I stared with startled recognition at the somewhat familiar cursive handwriting and braced myself. It read:
“Life consists of unpaved roads, fringed with the thorns of all that has gone before. But once does each man venture Life’s Road, believing always that each obstruction that makes him stumble and falter, each deviously concealed pitfall is uniquely his own. But, there comes a revelation – a time when he no longer looks upon the thorns of his sorrow with self-pitying eyes. No sorrow is a new sorrow as each pitfall, each obstruction, each thorn has existed since time inconceivable. All men share in the unity of their sorrows.”
I paused in my reading, caught up in a complex mix of emotion and memory, then read on.
“And always, there are friends to pave over the pitfalls, remove the obstructions with loving hands and pluck the numerous thorns from the wounded skin…consolation, understanding, compassion, love. So, life goes on, along the winding path, over the hills and plains, converging with the open, waiting arms of warm Mother Sun. To feel her embrace is to come to know the unity of all men – in love as in sorrow – because no man is born without inevitably travelling life’s unpaved roads.”
I placed the card and the unexpected, handwritten musing on the smooth surface of my 19th century sideboard, alongside a card and a glass Venetian shoe, courtesy of a more recent friend. That singular space serves as a shrine of sorts – a place of reverence and gratitude, an evolving homage to steadfast friendships.
And I thought…
Back in 1975, that “too serious” young woman must have intuited the priceless role that enduring friendship would play on the unpaved roads of her own life – offering “consolation, understanding, compassion, love.” But, she had yet to fully experience, yet to learn, just how much her cup would be filled and refilled with the steady and unexpected joys of friendship – much like the welcome embrace of warm Mother Sun! Much like the card in the mail, the photo and my 17-year-old “wisdom musings.” My etched-in-time smile lines are surely proof.
